Staying up past my ‘bedtime’ has been a way of life, all of my life. As much as I love sleep, I happen to like having my sleep start late.
I couldn’t tell you if nature or nurture made me a night owl. My father in particular, loves to stay up late and when I’m in Rehoboth with my family or back home in Scranton, I am shocked if I find my father has gone to sleep before me.
Even in my earliest memories, I exist as a night owl.
When I was a little kid, Dad worked second shift so I spent most nights with Mom and Nana. While Nana would often retreat to her bedroom in the early evening, my goal was to stay downstairs in the den with my TV-watching Mom as late as possible.
I was a good pretender
Each night, I’d promise to go to sleep in the couch, usually with my head in Mom’s lap. She would admonish me “eyes closed” periodically while she watched Taxi, M*A*S*H, Fantasy Island or The Love Boat.
Fantasy Island was my favorite, but watching Love Boat is how we got the How Babies Are Made conversation going.
In one episode, a cruise passenger was crying on the Lido Deck about being pregnant. I didn’t understand why. See, at some point I had been told that God only sent ladies babies once they got married.
As in…
I forget if she was upset because she wasn’t married or if her man were married to someone else. One of these.
And now I totally need Love Boat on DVD. And to stop writing this post to get under the covers.
